


Do The Circulation!

by stopdropanroll



Category: One Piece
Genre: Bad circulation sucks, Caring, Cooking sucks when you can't touch things, Gen, I'm tired, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not me projecting my health issues ahaha, Raynaud's phenomenon, i'm cold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29916273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopdropanroll/pseuds/stopdropanroll
Summary: The weather sucks, and Sanji is struggling to make it through the day.
Kudos: 34





	Do The Circulation!

**Author's Note:**

> Bad circulation sucks when you're trying to cook. Can't touch cold stuff, can't touch hot stuff, everything hurts. Also Sanji deserves a nap. 
> 
> Crossposted to ff. Criticism welcome!

A day of grey skies and stagnant water had passed sluggishly by, with the gods throwing in a drizzle of freezing rain just for kicks. The crew had reluctantly bundled up in preparation of what Nami had told them could be a few days worth of bleak weather.

Luffy had demanded an explanation, very put out that there wasn’t even a blizzard to make the delay worthwhile, but immediately lost interest in Nami’s explanation, joining Chopper and Usopp in their sulking. 

After staring forlornly out a porthole for an impressive two minutes, the boys had gotten bored and started up a game of impressions. 

Usopp had just taken on a striking resemblance to Admiral Smoker, much to Luffy and Chopper’s delight. 

“It’s Smokey! It’s Smokey!” Luffy laughed. 

Chopper clapped his hooves together admiringly, “Oh, my turn next!”

And so it went. Until Luffy broke out his Sanji impression. The three of them were unable to contain their mirth, and dropped to the floor, rolling around with tears streaming down their faces. 

“Shut up, you bastards!” the cook shouted from the kitchen, sensing mockery. When the laughter at his expense only increased, he just rolled his eyes. Those jerks were lucky he was busy. 

He stood by the stove, casually tending a large pot of soup with his usual expert precision. 

There were cups of tea waiting to be filled with boiling water on the counter for the ladies and , and a delicate torte he had made for everyone to enjoy while they waited for dinner. Of course, he planned to serve the ladies himself once the tea had been brewed to perfection.

Soon, the kettle was letting out a piping whistle, and Sanji whisked it off the stovetop with a flourish, filling the ladies’ teacups with a bit of extra flair. There was a spiced tangerine tisane for darling Nami-san, and for his lovely Robin-chan, an elegant lady grey. 

Letting them steep for the moment, he went to wash up before assembling the plates of torte, which he would be decorating with an array of colorful fruit. He flinched back when the frigid water sprayed from the tap. 

He let out a sigh of relief when it warmed to something more tolerable. The hotter water felt much nicer, though his fingers ached a bit as the feeling returned to them, watching as they turned an unsightly bright red. 

“Ugh,” he grumbled to himself. This was always more annoying when the weather was shitty. 

Drying his hands to an acceptable level, he went to grab what he needed from the fridge. The instant his skin made contact with the fruits, the warmth leached from his fingers, and he ferried them quickly onto the cutting board, much like someone else would with a cup of boiling water. 

When he checked his long fingers they were turning stark white. The flat dents in his flesh looked nearly alien. Rolling his eyes, Sanji dried them off more thoroughly and allowed himself to bask in the heat of the stove for a moment. 

He shook off the fatigue that was creeping up on him, brushing it aside in a practiced manner, and began slicing up the fruit for his cake, dwelling longingly on the thought of his suit jacket, which was draped over a chair to ensure it stayed clean. 

He fixed the produce over the torte to best display their whimsical colors. It was certainly a tantalizing sight, he preened. He placed the finishing touches on two markedly more radiant slices of the dessert and placed them on the serving tray, along with the tea and utensils. 

He had to jerk his hand away from the edge of the teacup in a rush, nearly upending it in his hurry.

Once he’d collected himself, he swept grandiosely into the dining room, twirling dramatically over to the Strawhat women. 

Nami greeted him enthusiastically, her eyes laser-focused on the treat. Robin looked up, thanking him in acknowledgement before sticking her nose back in her book. Sanji couldn’t contain a little ecstatic sway. Ah, to have two such perfect women to dote on, how blessed could one be? 

Luffy gasped in surprise and envy, “Sanji made cake?!” and launched himself towards the food without a second thought, eyes twinkling with greed. 

Sanji, expecting this, punted his Captain across the room before he could come close to attaining his prize. Usopp and Chopper just shook their heads from the safety of the porthole.  
While they wanted cake too, they knew better than to try anything before Nami and Robin had been waited on by the cook. Maybe if they were lucky they’d get a piece after that.

The threat to his creation staved off for the moment, Sanji began to lovingly serve the two goddesses before him, setting down each of their plates with much finesse, reaching gracefully for their tea–

“CAKE.”

The tray, incredibly, did not topple, but he could feel the tea cups beginning to slip as Luffy slammed into him.

Sanji, cursing his inattention and knowing his work was about to go to waste, tried to steady them with his free hand. 

Luffy, like a predator scenting wounded prey, continued to stalk the cake’s every move, waiting for the right moment to strike when his cook’s guard was down. 

Making his move, he jammed his fingers into Sanji’s kidney, and the blonde flinched away reflexively, finally launching the tray from his fingertips, where it crashed to the floor as he looked on in horror. 

The rubberman’s arm arced towards the plates unhindered. He heard Usopp shriek, adding to the terrible atmosphere of hopelessness. It was too late.

At the last possible moment, something jammed into the back of the great glutton’s hand.

“YOWCH!” Luffy screeched, trying to extricate himself from the tines of a dessert fork. 

They all watched as Nami popped the last of the slice into her mouth with an air of overwhelming smugness. Luffy pouted disappointedly.

Shame rushed through Sanji.

The tea was a mess on the floor, and a good deal of it was now soaking into his dress pants, and shards of china had flown everywhere. 

He scrubbed his hand across his face, trying to hold back a sigh. God, he was tired. 

Fetching a broom, he cleaned the floor on autopilot, hardly paying attention to the noise the crew was making. Apparently, Franky had been on his way to grab an extra bottle of cola, heard the commotion, and came to investigate. The rest of the crew was filling him in. 

Sanji wished they wouldn’t. They didn’t need to stand around and gawk.

He was just lucky the marimo hadn’t showed up to laugh at his stupidity, though Sanji was sure he’d heard the blunder. That would’ve been the last thing he needed. He didn’t feel like expending the energy it would take to beat the shit out of that bastard today.

As it was, the worst he had to contend with was Chopper shooting him a concerned look. 

Sanji waved him off, having no injuries for him to prod. He would avoid the little doctor for as long as possible, get some rest that night, and submit to a health examination tomorrow to ease his friend’s fears.

After sweeping up the last of the ruined teacups, he headed back to the kitchen, turning towards the ladies with a smile and a tight assurance that he was fine, that he would bring them more tea in but a moment. 

He wouldn’t want to worry them, after all. 

He shot Luffy a half-hearted glare before disappearing once more into the kitchen. Maybe he would give that shithead’s piece of cake to Chopper. 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Luffy frowned, looking up from Nami’s plate, which he’d just finished licking clean. 

“What’s up with Sanji?” he asked, free to be puzzled now that all the available food in the general vicinity was gone. 

Nami knew what he meant. When it came to food, Sanji was adept at carefully considering the needs of each cremate and responding to their behavior with a crazy amount of foresight. 

He often chose to ignore it, but she knew how well he could read the room if he wanted to. He’d had to, working on the Baratie for all that time. Anticipating the reactions of his customers had been an unofficial part of his job description.

He should have known what was going to happen after he kicked Luffy away. It was troubling. 

“Maa, so the guy had an off day, give him a break,” said Franky, “everyone has ‘em sometimes. He’ll get over whatever’s eating him superrr quick, knowing him.” He winked at Chopper, striking a goofy pose and flicking his sunglasses down. Nami averted her gaze in case his speedo slipped. Hadn’t happened yet, but she’d rather not take the chance. 

“And if he doesn’t, well, we’ve got one rockin’ doctor who’ll fix him right up! Ow!”

Chopper, who had been looking a bit forlorn, brightened up, bringing his hooves up to cover his face, “Don’t think complementing me will make me feel better, you stupid jerk!” he giggled, wiggling. 

“Shishishi! You sure look happy though,” Luffy pointed out, relaxing a bit now that the tension was broken.

Usopp moved to further distract the reindeerman, “Hohoho, young doctor, did I ever tell you about the time I brought cups of tea to a beautiful queen imprisoned on a magical island?”

Chopper hovered close, eyes wide, as Usopp began to spin a tale of intrigue and romance, undoubtedly one where he would defeat the villains single-handedly and rescue the queen from her corrupt court. Nami felt her mood lighten up a bit as she listened surreptitiously. Maybe everything would turn out alright. 

Robin, who had been watching the whole thing unfold with soft eyes, grabbed her book and rose gracefully from her seat, pausing to pat Chopper on the head and shooting a quick smile at Franky before heading in the direction of the library.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Sanji remade the tea with little effort and much frustration. 

It felt a bit childish, but he couldn’t resist flinging himself dramatically onto a chair to wait for it to steep a second time, crossing his arms. He pulled out his cigarettes, bringing one to his lips in a single sharp movement. He clicked his lighter, and made a small noise of annoyance as it failed to light. After clicking it a few more times, he tossed it onto the counter in disgust. 

He rummaged around a bit for the kitchen matches before giving up and stuffing the stick of tobacco back into its box. 

Goddamn it. 

It was about time to bring the second round of tea out to Nami and Robin. 

Goddamn it. 

Clearing the grumpiness from his face, Sanji took the drinks into the dining room, trying his best not to stalk in menacingly, like a part of him wanted to. It would only trouble his lovely ladies. 

At the table, only Nami-swan was still seated. He set her cup in front of her with all the poise he could muster. 

“Your tea, Nami-swan,” he said. 

She glanced over at him from where she had been listening to the fantasy Usopp was weaving. “Ah, thank you, Sanji,” she said gratefully. He nodded politely, happy to serve. 

Strangely, a frown graced her perfect lips. “Sanji,” she asked, “are you alright?”

A little taken aback, he hurried to stand straighter and smile wider, “Of course, my darling dewdrop, my goddess of the sea, whatever do you mean?”

Looking a bit abashed, Nami stumbled into answering, “Well, uh, it’s just that you don’t seem as… exuberant as usual tonight?”

“Nonsense, my darling, I’m right as rain!” He grinned, forcing himself into a pirouette for good measure. 

She did not seem very convinced. “Okay then, monsieur ballarino, but be sure to take care of yourself.”

He felt a lump form in his throat. He nodded and excused himself under the pretense of bringing Robin’s tea to her before it got cold.

He allowed himself to stalk over the deck, just in case Zoro happened to be out napping like an oversized jungle cat despite the shitty weather. When no mosshead appeared to add to his suffering, he huffed with relief. 

Knocking at the library’s door to announce his presence, he slipped unobtrusively into the room so as not to disturb the archaeologist, holding back a sigh as the cozy air settled over his body. Sensing him anyway, she gestured for him to come closer, taking the tea from him with light fingers. 

“Cook-san, thank you,” The woman said, “the cake was quite delicious as well.”

He felt a small amount of joy sooth his troubled mind. “It’s my pleasure, Robin-chwan!” 

Her expression did not change, but he felt her scrutiny. Without warning, hands bloomed out of his surroundings, dragging him gently over to a chair. Stunned, he almost didn’t feel the weight of a blanket dropping around his shoulders. 

“W-what? Robin-chan, what are you-?” 

“Sanji,” she said, “sit down and rest a while. It’s warm here, and I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Normally, Sanji would be so flattered he could cry, “But, but, the soup! I haven’t finished dinner yet!” He couldn’t allow the crew to go hungry, it was against his morals as a chef!

“Now, now cook-san, there’s no need to fret. You’ve already prepared it, correct? It just needs to be served,” she looked at him for confirmation. 

“That’s true, but…” the warmth of the blanket was starting to relax him a bit too deeply, and he had to smother a yawn with his hand. A few hands had started making a soothing motion over his back and shoulders, another ran through his hair. His eyes flickered shut for a moment, involuntarily savoring the feeling. 

He could feel himself drifting away, a voice in the back of his head trying to protest, but he was already too far gone to heed it. 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Robin chuckled as the cook’s breathing evened out. He was so exhausted it had hardly taken any coaxing for him to drop off. She let her hands continue to pet the young man as she sent another few to set the table. Sanji had finished the hardest part of the work, and she knew he would want to see it through. 

The poor boy deserved a break now and then, anyhow. It was a battle every day to keep up with everyone’s appetites, although one she knew he enjoyed. 

As he rested, the crew would feast nearly as well as they would with the cook himself overseeing the process. She wasn’t a miracle worker, after all, but she was certainly willing to do this much. 

A nearly inaudible snore drew her out of her thoughts. She adjusted the blanket around him more securely. 

“Sweet dreams, cook-san.”


End file.
